


Pushing Daisies

by EffortlesslyUncool



Series: Petals and Piano Keys ~ Aerith/Tifa Appreciation 2018 [6]
Category: Final Fantasy VII, Pushing Daisies
Genre: Aerti Week 2018, F/F, Murder Mystery, Petals and Piano Keys, Unresolved Sexual Tension, pushing daisies / final fantasy VII crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffortlesslyUncool/pseuds/EffortlesslyUncool
Summary: Tifa is a pie-maker, gifted with the ability to reanimate the dead by touching them. If something is revived for more than one minute, a similar "life value" in the vicinity drops dead as a form of balance. If she touches the revived person or thing a second time, they die permanently. Barret Cod enlists the help of Tifa, Aerith and Digby to solve the mysterious death of President ShinRa.





	Pushing Daisies

**Author's Note:**

> The Pushing Daisies and FFVII mash-up that no one asked for, but was prompted by my lack of ability to write enough by AerTi week. Obviously, the prompt in question here, was 'Flowers'.
> 
> I'm still working out how I'm going to write this. I really want to keep much of the original narrative, quirky (and dark) humor as well as the fairytale-vibe that Pushing Daisies had - but trying to manipulate the screenplay to work with my stubborn writing style may take some work and many, many edits.

At this very moment in the town of Icicle Inn, Young Tifa was 8 years, 27 weeks, 6 days and 3 minutes old.

Her dog Digby was 3 years, 2 weeks, 6 days, 5 hours and 9 minutes old. And not a minute older.

Tifa and Digby are visiting Icicle Inn on vacation. Tifa's parents are taking refuge from the snow inside their rental cottage; the armchairs they sat in poking broken springs into their backsides, partaking in steaming hot cocoa and reading seasonal books around a fire, infrequently stopping in their novel to scorn said fire which spat embers through the grate and burned holes into the well-loved carpet. Hopefully, the owners won't dock anything from their security deposit. These facts do not worry Tifa, or Digby.

She's ice fishing at a small pond, a small way from the row of houses behind. The local children taught her to fish, out of pity that she'd never seen snow before. They didn't spend too long outdoors with the strange girl from out of town, they've all gone inside and daylight will soon disappear over the western horizon.  In her boredom while waiting for a catch, she's been meticulously building a diorama of her family from the snow around her. Carefully does it, she adds a small ball of snow to Digby's miniature, representing his head-

_SPLASH_

Without warning, her golden haired companion slipped through the fishing hole into bone-chilling water. Time slowed: panic forced instinct into overdrive and Tifa throws herself over and graps, to pull her best friend to the surface. The clock is crawling as Digby slips out of her feeble grip and back in. Somewhere behind her, fast paced and heavy footsteps compact snow one after another. Her father pushes her out of the way; jumps in, sending freezing water spraying in every direction only to pull the lifeless mass of fur out and carefully set down by her side. Her pulse deafens her as she approaches the unmoving body of her dead dog Digby; her father patting her on her shoulder and her mother now checking her over to see if she's okay. Her parents returned to the cottage, leaving her alone to say a few words.

She kneels, reaches out to stroke the dog's soaked fur. As Tifa bridges a physical connection with her fingertip, she sees a small static arc of electricity between her finger and Digby's fur. In a pivotal turn of event's in Tifa's life: Digby inexplicably scrambled up from the ground; displacing snow as he jumped excitably around Tifa - and a single daisy, surrounded by a tangle of perennial weeds beneath snow, blooms, unbeknownst to the girl. 

Digby bounded gracelessly toward the house. Tifa watches this all in amazement, as her mother opens the front door, and then her arms up in glee. She stares at her finger, not exactly sure what happened. 

This was the moment Young Tifa realised that she wasn’t like the other children. Nor was she like anyone else for that matter.

Forgetting all about ice-fishing, she runs off after Digby - to greet her mother and deny all knowledge of anything strange having happened after the three of them witnessed Digby laying inanimate on the ground.

Young Tifa could touch dead things and bring them back to life.

Back at home in Nibelheim some months later, Tifa was sat at the picnic bench at the village greene. She was eating lunch when suddenly, a squirrel fell from the tree overhead, dead, hitting the ground with a respectable _thunk._ A thought occurred to her, to try out her newfound skill once more.

This touch was a gift given to her, but not by anyone in particular. There was no box, no instructions, no manufacturer’s warranty-

Young Tifa peered over her lunchbox at the squirrel. Reaching over and touching the dead squirrel, there’s another small electric pop.

The squirrel scurried up trunk of the tree from where it fell, and blended into foliage. Toward the town centre, she witnessed the village butcher ending the life of a fly in his shop front abruptly.

-It just was. The terms and use weren’t immediately clear, nor were they of immediate concern. Tifa was in love.

Looking around, Young Tifa turned her head to look at source of the excitement nearby: their new neighbors across the road. 

The girl whom Tifa learned to know as Aerith was playing in their new front garden; building small villages with cardboard boxes and scarping mounds of dirt with her bare fingers to finish the landscaping for play-doh people and toy cars. Her father watered the grass surrounding Aerith and her universe.

At this very moment, she was 9 years, 42 weeks, 3 hours and 2 minutes old. 

Pig-tailed Aerith squeezed a little people head out of the Play-Doh Fun Factory, placing it carefully and dutifully on the body she already constructed a moment prior.

Young Tifa did not think of her as being born or hatched or conceived in any way. Aerith came ready-made from the Play-Doh Fun Factory of Life.

She made the final few touches on her village and in the click of Aerith's fingers, they're alive! 

In their imaginations, Young Tifa and a girl named Aerith conquered the world.

As large as life, they watched toy car engines roar into animation; driving through tiny streets and toy people milling around on bicycles and tiny sidewalks! 

 _Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._ The ground shook! Toy people gasp - throwing their arms over their heads as they run for the lives away from a frenzied giant reptile! Oh no! The giant reptile stomps on Aerith's cardboard buildings - crushing it. A young, pink-pig-tailed godzilla tore through the streets of downtown Couer d'Couers - terrorising anyone who dared to roam the imaginary cityscape. Just when the lone hero character has taken stage to stop the lady-reptilian - _SQUISH!_ Oh no! Godzilla's red booted friend arrives on scene and crushes the poor fellow, dead.

Aerith's laughter with Tifa's carried into her home; Ifalna waved through the kitchen window, over the potted plants- reminding them not to get too dirty.

Long after their play-date, Young Tifa remained under Aerith's spell...

She watched from the decking at the Lockhart residence, as Mr Gast used the garden hose to spray off the layers of dirt from another afternoon running around in the muddy trails and fields surrounding Nibelheim. Tifa's mother was sweeping inside of their house. Mesmerized and not paying attention to her immediate surroundings - she missed the heavy thud onto hardwood floor.

...until a blood vessel in her mother's brain burst, killing her instantly.

Mr and Mrs Gast chase their daughter inside, and Tifa opens the heavy wooden door of her own without Aerith to distract her futher. She finds her mother, lifeless. Another child may go running to find an adult, emergency personal or someone to help. Tifa shrugged, and touched her mother's cheek, just below her eye. 

_Pop._

Her mother's eyes blinked open, "I must've slipped! Did the timer go off?"

Tifa smiled - staring as her mother jumped up, brushes off her apron and opens the oven door to check on the pie cooking inside.

Tifa backed slowly away.

Young Tifa’s random gift that was, came with a caveat or two...

She sat then, at the kitchen table. She was stunned, unable to look away as her mother removed the pie from the oven. Through the window, she smiled when Aerith briefly ran back outside to grab her favourite action figure. Her father followed her out, though he seemed content to continue his yard work. Tifa looked back at her mother, now tending to and checking the pie for readiness.

The timer on the counter top dinged. Across the way, Mr Gast dropped dead with the rake in his hands.

It was a gift that not only gave... it took. Young Tifa discovered she could only bring the dead back to life for one minute without consequence. Any longer, and someone else had to die.

Tifa shrieked; in slow motion, the pie dish that her mother was holding slipped from her grip and shattered into one million pieces of pie and sharp glass when she saw Aerith's father collapse against the grass. They looked on in horror as night fell, and the ambulance pulled away slowly without it's emergency lights on some time later.

Her mother stood to the side while she peeled back her bed sheets so that Tifa could climb into bed that night. She was careful not to touch her, while she tucked Tifa into bed and pulled the blankets over the young girl's shoulders. 

But there was one more thing about touching dead things that Young Tifa didn’t know. And she learned it in the most unfortunate way.

As Tifa's mother pressed a goodnight kiss onto her forehead, the second that her lips touched Tifa's skin - Tifa hears it. Her heart feels the grief before her mother falls to the floor. Frantic, she scrambled out of her bed sheets to kneel next to her dead mother. She poked her. Once...twice. Nothing. 

First touch, life. Second touch, dead again forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Also: If anyone would do the math for me and let me know the exact difference in age between Aerith and Tifa that would be greater than if you were to wait for me to remember to do it.


End file.
